Dean's fiance, Lisa, died three years ago in a car crash, leaving him alone with their daughter Mary. Everyone wants him to move on, but can he? It's hard to let go of the past, especially when it seems to be hanging everywhere. Despite their efforts, Sam doesn't even know how close to the breaking point Dean truly is. Can a blue eyed man who Mary keeps calling an angel help him?
That's the story.
Later, there may be rated M chapters. Those will be marked, so keep an eye out for: "Rated: M!" at the top. Thank you~
Sam glanced at his brother.
"How've you guys been doing?"
Dean glanced back.
"Fine. Good, Sammy."
Sam nodded a bit.
Dean sighed as he took a sip from his bottle of water, eyes tracking Mary attempting to climb the jungle gym.
"Just say it."
Sam shook his head.
"I'm not going to push it. It's just… it's been three years, Dean. You've done a lot better than Dad had, but… I'm just worried. For both of you."
Dean's jaw clenched.
"Do we have to bring up Dad, Sammy?"
Sam sighed, shifting some chestnut colored hair out of his face. He took a drink, also, his wedding band glinting, and Dean felt a small amount of happiness just looking at it.
"Sorry, I know. Just… don't you think it's time—"
"Mary!" Dean's short bark made Sam jump and Dean was suddenly off of the bench, stomping across the park. Sam's eyes followed him and saw Mary, the small five year old, staring up and talking to another man who, oddly, was wearing a trench coat. Sam debated for a moment but decided to stay where he was for now, watching it play out. Dean's temper had gotten better over the years, but once he'd had Mary and especially after her mother died, anything could set him off when it came to her.
Sam watched nervously, taking another sip of water and telepathically sending a message to his wife, Jessica. When we have a kid… Don't let Dean take her to the park.
Mary turned to her dad once he was only a few feet away and grinned, flying to him.
"Daddy, look! I found an angel! He fell from Heaven, he's an angel, daddy!"
Dean ignored her, pulling her close to his leg protectively. Feeling the anger radiating off of her dad, Mary fell silent, clinging to his jean leg.
"Who're you?" Dean sneered. The man's eyes flickered to him, and unbidden, Dean's breath caught. They were the most strikingly deep blue he'd ever seen, and they probed him, almost looking through him.
"I am Castiel. And I am not an angel. I… don't know why she keeps calling me that."
Dean blinked and crossed his arms, observing the rest of the man. He was about his height, maybe an inch shorter, with messy, jet-black hair and wearing a business suit under a trench coat, clutching a suitcase.
"Because he's an angel, Daddy!" Mary shouted, quickly shushed.
Dean didn't take his eyes off the other man for a second.
"Why're you here?" He hadn't seen a kid around the man, and he didn't exactly look the father type, anyhow.
"This is the easiest path to my home from work," the man, 'Castiel', answered, his eyes finally lighting up in realization, "I mean no harm, I assure you. I will leave right now and find another route home, if you prefer it."
Dean eyed the man. He didn't sound like a pedophile—then again, what did they sound like? But this guy sounded like an English professor or something.
"What do you do?" Dean couldn't stop from asking, and immediately wanted to kick himself as the man tilted his head curiously.
"I am an English and Latin Major. I write articles and give lectures over their origins and developments over time."
"Huh," Dean grunted a bit, feeling like a caveman in comparison.
"What do you do?" Castiel asked, head still tilted. Dean shifted uncomfortably.
"Erm… I own a garage a few blocks from here…" Dean faltered.
"Do you enjoy it?"
Dean blinked in surprise at the weird question.
"Er… well, yeah. I like cars…" he shrugged. Castiel smiled.
"That's good. It's difficult to find work that you enjoy. You should keep doing it."
Dean nodded a bit.
"Yeah… So, what's up with the trench coat? No offense, but it's not exactly the best thing to wear around a park."
Castiel looked down at himself, as if just realizing he was wearing the beige tax accountant coat. He looked up at Dean and observed him back, eyes trailing his body for a moment, which made Dean suppress a shiver.
"I like this coat," he answered simply, "My brother gave it to me, shortly before he passed."
Dean's eyes softened.
"It's fine. I must go now. Is it still safe to come through here on my way home?"
Dean hesitated, before realizing Castiel was teasing him, blue eyes dancing. Dean laughed a bit.
"Yeah, I guess," he answered with a tough shrug, making Castiel chuckled a little. They stared at each other for a moment, and Dean found himself drowning in those eyes before Castiel gave a small smile and nodded.
Dean realized the guy was leaving and jumped suddenly.
Castiel turned to him in surprise, and Dean swallowed.
"My name's Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester," he told him, holding out a hand. Castiel looked at it for a second before taking it in his own smooth one, fingers grazing over Dean's calloused palm.
"'Winchester's Sons Garage'," Castiel spoke, eyes dancing, "You're very popular." He dropped his hand, adjusting his brief case. Cas tilted his head.
"Perhaps, if it's alright, I'll stop by…?" he asked curiously, carefully. Dean blinked and grinned.
"Yeah, sure. Maybe I can get you a discount," he told him, and automatically wanted to kick himself. 'Discount'? Seriously? Castiel smiled.
"Right. Thank you. Goodbye… Dean Winchester."
The sound of his name coming from that deep, gravelly tone shuddered his spine, and this time, Dean watched Castiel walk for a moment before turning away. He saw Mary on the jungle gym again, having left during the boring adult talk, and let himself sigh in relief before walking back towards the bench where Sam sat waiting for him.
Sam stared at his brother. It wasn't like he was blind, or an idiot. He could practically hear the conversation just from their body language and facial expressions. So when Dean sat down next to him, a small frown on his face, Sam spread his hands out.
"Dude," he said seriously, staring, "Tell me you got his number."
Dean's neck and face flushed and he looked at Sam like he was crazy.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Dude, you were totally into each other! Just tell me he's not actually a creep."
Dean rolled his eyes.
"No, he's not," he started, and pointed an accusing finger at Sam, "And no, we weren't."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Like hell. I'm not blind. Anyone within a five mile radius could see the attraction between you two." When Dean didn't respond, Sam sighed, "Did you get his name, at least?"
Dean nodded slowly, staring at his water bottle.
"Yeah. Castiel." He raised the bottle to his lips, "Some weird ass name, if you ask me. Mary kept calling him an angel." He glanced over when Sam snickered, "What?"
"You are aware that 'Castiel' is an angel's name from the Bible, right?"
"What? How the hell would she know that? You've gotta stop giving her so many books, I swear."
Sam laughed and shrugged.
"She likes to read. That's hard to find in kids, so milk it while you can."
"Yeah, I guess."
It was silent for a moment, a comfortable silence, before Sam broke it.
"So… was he hot?"
Lisa, Dean's fiancé and Mary's mother, died three years ago in a car crash. He could still remember the day—though he never remembered it on purpose. Mary had been only two then, so she hadn't really known what was going on, just that her mommy was gone and her daddy was sad, so she'd cried with him that night, too. The first year people had given him a break, letting him live quietly and sadly with Mary, though they all offered help any way they could. It was nearing the end of the third year, though, and Sammy had been pushing Dean to find someone knew—everyone had, in fact.
Dean brushed them all off, denying that he needed help, or simply that he was lonely. Mary had adapted surprisingly well to Dean being the only one to look after her, though sometimes Jo, a family friend, or Sammy babysat her when Dean went out with friends (which wasn't a lot of times) or had had a long day and wanted to get to sleep early (which was a lot of the times, more than anyone knew about).
Sam took Mary with him, and Dean gave her a hug and goodbye before waving off Sammy's knowing smirk. He watched them leave before climbing into the car and heading back towards the shop. Everyone made fun of him for the minivan, but since Lisa had died, he hadn't been able to drive the Impala; it wasn't exactly the safest car to drive a small kid around in.
When he arrived, the garage door was open and Bobby was there, shifting through some tools. From the back, Jo appeared and caught sight of Dean jumping out of the van, closing and locking it. She grinned as he approached, a streak of grease on her face.
"So what's this about a new boyfriend?"
Dean groaned and Bobby whipped around, eyes wide.
"What?" the old man demanded, but Dean waved him off, face heating up.
"Nothing, Bobby. Just Sam being an idiot."
Jo smirked, not taking her eyes off Dean as she explained to Bobby,
"Apparently he met a guy at the park and was doing some hard flirting."
Dean's face burned.
"I was not! Can we just get to work already?" he grumbled.
Jo rolled her eyes.
"Fine, whatever, Mr. Bossy." She disappeared inside, and Dean sighed in relief, moving over to his own tool bench to begin working on the car they'd been fixing up for the past two days.
"I know the kid gets on your nerves sometimes," Bobby started lowly, motioning to where Jo had went, "But she's got a point, son. You've gotta get out there eventually. The baby'll be fine. Hell, it might do her some good. Get away from you and that moose every once in a while."
Dean shook his head, tossing a wrench to the side.
"I dunno, Bobby," he started, "Just… it's just too much, you know? There's too much going on right now to deal with something… like that." The man's eyes popped into his mind, but he violently shoved the thought away.
"Whatever you say, boy," Bobby admonished, "Just do what you think's best. We all just want the best for y'all."
"I know, Bobby. Thanks."
Bobby clapped his hands together.
"Alright, enough with this chick-flick crap. Only a few more tweaks to go and this baby'll be out on the road."
By the time Dean arrived at Sam's, his hands had a few cuts, his feet hurt, and every bone in his body seemed to pound in rhythm, trying to bust through his skin. They'd had another flood of people in today, and even more cars, of course on the day they were short-staffed. Dean had been so busy that he almost hadn't thought about the blue eyed man until he was leaving and realized that he hadn't seen him again. The tiredness quickly swept the thought away as he pulled up into Sam's driveway, stepping out of the car and trudging up to the front door.
He gave a small knock, rubbing his eyes with one hand, when the door opened to Sam, a sleeping Mary cradled in one arm as he held the door open with the other. Sam's eyes widened at the sight of him.
"Holy crap, man, you look terrible."
"Thanks," Dean drawled, and reached out for Mary. The small blonde clung to his neck immediately as he hoisted her small, warm body against his chest, smiling a bit. Sam handed him her backpack, watching his brother carefully.
"Are you sure you don't want us to keep her overnight? Jess has to work early but I can drop her off—"
Dean was already shaking his head.
"Nah, man, I've got her. Thanks."
Sam nodded a bit uncertainly, but he knew better than to push.
"Alright, Dean. Call if you need anything."
Dean's jaw clenched a bit.
"Yeah. Thanks, Sam."
Dean turned and began the trudge back to the car, hearing the door shut quietly behind him. He knew that everyone was just trying to help, but he hated when Sam or anyone else implied that he couldn't take care of Mary on his own. He'd been doing it for three years, damnit. You'd think people would trust him with her by now.
Dean opened the back car door and laid the small pink backpack on the floorboards before shifting Mary in his arms and lifting her to place her in the car seat. She gave a small whine but didn't open her eyes as he buckled her in, her head slumping against the back of the seat, cheeks pink and long eyelashes lined up against her cheeks. Dean brushed some of her long blonde hair away from her face, staring a moment.
She looked so much like her mom.
Though her hair was his own mother's, whom she was named after, and her eyes were Dean's, a startling green, her small nose and lips and heart-shaped face were all Lisa's. Dean stared at her for a moment longer before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to her forehead. She gave a small, huffy sigh, and he smiled before closing the back door as gently as possible, walking around slowly and dragging himself into the driver's seat.
"Don't call me 'baby' anymore."
Dean tried to keep the hurt from his eyes. He always called her baby.
Lisa smiled widely, a hand spreading on her stomach.
"I don't think our Baby would appreciate it."
Sam's face split into shock, and then a grin, and Jess shrieked.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, embracing Lisa, who was near to tears.
"Oh my god, man, congratulations!" Sam told him genuinely, grinning and patting him on the back. Bobby couldn't even hold in a smile.
"Good job, boy."
If anyone had seen the tears in Dean's eyes, no one mentioned them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Winchester?"
From where he sat holding Lisa's hand, they both looked up to see the dark nurse holding something bundled in a pink sheet.
"I'd like you to meet your baby."
Lisa covered a hand with her mouth, tears streaming down her eyes as she stared down at the sleeping baby.
"Oh my god…"
Dean pressed a kiss to her temple.
"Dean, get in here!"
Dean immediately dropped the dishes and bolted into the living room.
"What?! Where—" he dropped his defensive pose and stared. Lisa looked at him over her shoulder, teary eyed.
"She's… here, baby, walk to Daddy. Walk to Daddy, honey."
The small toddler, a patch of hay-blonde hair on her head, smiled up at her Daddy before staring at her feet. Carefully, she placed one ahead of the other at a slight angle, chubby hands held out precariously in the air to balance her. She put another foot ahead of the other and wobbled a bit. Dean crouched, watching her, and she grinned before shuffling forward hurriedly. She moved too fast and began to fall forward, but Dean caught her easily under the arms and lifted her up, standing.
"That was fantastic, baby," Dean whispered, smiling at the grinning baby through the tears pricking his eyes, "That was so good." The girl gave a hiccupped giggle and wrapped her small arms around his neck as Lisa stood, wiping away her tears. Dean wrapped his free arm around her and brought her close, kissing her on the forehead. She smiled up at him.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
A harsh ring erupted next to his ear and Dean bolted, and dread immediately set in his stomach as he grabbed the phone. The bed was empty. He answered it before looking at the ID and Sam yelled in his ear.
"Dean! Hurry, there's been an accident, the police are everywhere, Ellen's fine but Lisa's been hurt—"
"I'll be there."
Dean rushed about his room, jumping into sweats and a shirt. Small footsteps alerted him of a presence and two-year old Mary waddled into his room, rubbing her eyes with a small fist.
Dean kneeled down and gathered Mary into his arms.
"Come on, baby, we've got to go."
Dean got out of the car, slamming the door after telling Mary to stay put. Police were everywhere, flashing lights and rain surrounding him. He could just see Ellen's car beyond the police tape and he shoved forward, ignoring the calls of his name that were probably from Sam.
"Sir, stop, you can't come any closer."
"Let me through!" Dean shouted, shoving at him, his eyes catching a glimpse of an ambulance and a stretcher with an unmoving body on it.
"Let me through!" A white sheet was pulled over dark hair, and Dean felt a sob tear his throat, uncaring, shoving at the two policemen holding him, "That's my wife! That's my wife—"
A horn slammed in his ears and Dean jolted the brakes as someone passed in front of him, flipping him off through their window. Dean's heart jumped to his throat and unbuckled his seat belt, turning around.
"Mary?! Are you alright?"
Mary muttered something and shifted back against her chair, a bit of drool sliding down the corner of her mouth. Dean gave a sigh and slumped back in his seat, pressing his head back against the headrest. A curse past his lips. He tried not to hit the steering wheel in frustration, not wanting to wake Mary.
Slowly he opened his eyes to look at his hands. They were shaking. He carefully clenched and unclenched them, a few times, harder each time. Finally, they settled to a faint vibrate and Dean placed his seatbelt back on before beginning again, slower, and shoving all thoughts other than getting them home safely from his mind.
Once they arrived, Dean took an extra moment before unfolding himself from the car and walking around, lifting Mary out of her seat, who was still deeply sleeping. He slung the backpack over his other shoulder and fiddled with the keys before eventually making it into their house. It was a small house, but nice—mediocre to the ones that were around, but Dean didn't care.
He shuffled through the kitchen and living room and into the hallway where both of their rooms and the guest bathroom was. Dean, thankfully, had his own bathroom—which seemed a little too big since it wasn't cluttered with makeup and flat irons and—
Dean felt his way into Mary's room, not risking turning on the light. He let his feet glide in front of him, brushing any toys out of the way, until he made it to the bed. Dean carefully placed Mary on top of the covers, peeling off her tiny shoes and socks and clothes down to her underwear. He then shuffled through the drawers and found her pajamas, and quickly and quietly slipped these on her tiny body, earning a few grunts from the girl.
Dean then tugged the covers from underneath her and settled them over her, grabbing a small stuffed monkey and placing it in Mary's hands, which she immediately latched onto. He gave a small, relieved sigh and pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing back her hair.
"Goodnight, baby," he whispered.
Cracking the door to her room, he crept down the hall until he reached his room at the very end. Dean closed the door a crack and thankfully shed his clothing down to his boxers, tossing them into the hamper before crawling into his side of the bed. The other side was made, and Dean faced away from it, closing his eyes to feel that hand caress his back, onto his shoulder, and hear whispers in his ear. Dean swallowed and shoved them away, pulling the covers tight to himself.
Yep. Just another day.
~Until Next Time